


The Real You

by odriscolls



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, How Do I Tag, POV Shane Walsh, Shane Walsh Lives, Walkers (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-08-24 01:33:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odriscolls/pseuds/odriscolls
Summary: Fate was as harsh as death, which was something that Shane Walsh knew first hand. There were demons in his head and an awful burning in his lungs. There is no one left in this world for him; until Natasha Grimes finds him half-dead in a field





	1. Savior

Shane's heart pounded against his chest as he lay on his back, almost breathless, staring into the sky. His body refused to move on command, and the distant groans of the dead terrified him. He sucked in another breath that burnt his lungs with a ferocity that damn near consumed him. 

 

The look in Rick's eyes as he drove the knife into his chest was burnt into Shane's mind and would never be forgotten. He knew that he had fucked up. Why did he do the things that he did? It had gotten him killed. He was sure that he would die tonight, and he wondered what would happen when he eventually passed. 

 

He had never believed in Heaven or Hell, nor reincarnation, but if he had to guess? If he didn't go to Hell, he would probably be reborn as a cockroach. Some old lady could swat him with a newspaper for the rest of his miserable life. Shane didn't take his eyes from the sky; it was not an awful view, one he didn't mind being the last that he ever saw.

 

Footsteps caught his attention. They were hurrying toward him, but there were no groans to be heard; it had to be a Walker. One last  _ fuck you _ from life. He wouldn't get to enjoy the view, because some dead bastard was going to eat his face. 

 

A sharp pain shot through his side, and a muffled gasp reached his ears as a body fell over his own. Shane let out a weak groan as he saw someone crawl away from him, and then their face came into view as it hovered over his own. 

 

"Shane?" The person was a woman, and he quickly recognised her.  _ Natasha Grimes. _ Rick's younger sister, and one of the few people who didn't tiptoe around him. She had been gone for a while, and he wondered if she had seen the rest of the group yet. There was an expression of panic on her face as she looked at him, and he couldn't bring himself to speak to her, whether his body would allow him to or not.

 

"Oh, shit, fuck," She muttered, taking off her jacket and using it to prop up his head. He felt her move his arm from his chest and push up his blood-soaked shirt, it was dark, but she was trying to examine his wound.  _ She was trying to save his life. _ He watched as she removed her flannel shirt, she pressed it against his wound before looking behind her. With her free hand, she waved at someone, and Shane could just about make out two or three other people.

 

"What the fuck? Tasha, leave him, come on!" A man hissed.  _ Asshole. _ Shane grunted, and Natasha turned back to him, using both hands to put pressure on his wound. He was expecting to die anyway, even with the knowledge that she had worked in a hospital. 

 

"Shut up, John. Help me!" Natasha demanded, and another woman kneeled next to him. He vaguely felt a hand touching him, but at this point, he wasn't questioning anything. 

 

"We need to put pressure on the major artery leading to the wounded area, and we need to get him to the car before the freaks find us," The woman said, and then Shane felt more hands on him. The people lifted him, and he swore he heard someone call him heavy. Shane groaned, unable to control it as they carried him away from the field. They were quick, and Natasha never left his sight, and something about her was comforting. 

 

"There's a clinic back in town," The woman spoke as they laid him on the backseat, repositioning the coat under his head. "We could take him there? There might still be supplies." 

 

"Why the fuck are we risking our lives for this asshole..." Shane zoned out as the man from earlier spoke, and he shut his eyes as his brain pounded against his skull. He must have passed out because when he opened his eyes again, they were in a room that was lit with only a dim bulb. Natasha was stood over him, as was another woman, and he could see them dressing his wound with a plastic bag. They had taped three sides of it down with duct tape, and he came to the conclusion that the clinic didn't have any of the tools they needed. 

 

"Check for shock," The woman instructed Natasha, still applying some pressure to his wound, and he felt a hand press against his forehead. 

 

"He's cool, sweating," She commented, and he saw a frown on her face. "He's pale too. Ally, should I take his shirt off?" She asked, and  _ Ally _ nodded. 

 

"John, get off your ass and get a blanket from the car," Ally instructed, and Shane heard  _ John _ grumble as he left the room. Natasha and a man started to lift Shane's arms, clumsily trying to get his shirt off without hurting him. The crisp air felt nice but didn't distract from the ache in his chest.

 

"How do you know him?" Ally questioned, and Natasha sighed. She wasn't going to keep any secrets from these people, but she hated talking about him as if he wasn't here. Her green eyes studied Shane's face before turning to face the raven-haired woman.

 

"He used to be my brother's friend. I wasn't that close to him," Natasha confessed, setting Shane's shirt on a chair. "He's a good guy, I genuinely have no idea how he would have ended up like  _ this _ ."

 

That part was a lie, and Natasha had a pretty good idea of how he ended up like this. She was willing to cover for him; he may have been an idiot these past few months, but she couldn't let him die like this.

 

"He was stabbed in the chest. He's lucky he didn't  _ die _ . That kind of assault seems personal," John condemned Shane, and Natasha scowled at him.

 

"What the fuck are you implying?" She questioned, and John opened his mouth to answer, but Ally nudged him. Instead, John left the room again. Natasha despised John and John returned the sentiment. However, he was soft for Ally; she was the only person that could keep him from losing his temper.

 

"I don't know why you bother with that man," Natasha touched Shane's forehead again, and Ally chuckled. 

 

"I love him," She stated, simply, not explaining further. Natasha knew little about being in love. Neither did Shane. There was a difference between  _ love _ and  _ obsession _ . 

 

"Hey," A new, Irish voice caught their attention, and Shane vaguely recognised the man. "I see he's alive, a fucking miracle," He commented, setting his backpack down on the floor. 

 

"He's shockingly quiet, that's the true miracle," Natasha teased, shooting a smirk Shane's way. He scoffed weakly. 

 

"I found some bottles of water, it ain't much," The Irish man handed a bottle to Natasha, and she made herself comfortable on a chair. Shane realised he must be on a table. 

 

"Thanks, Oz," Natasha smiled before sipping some water. Shane studied her for a few moments, wondering why she would save him. Why?  _ Why? _ After everything he had done to her family, surely she knew? If it had been his choice, he would have died. 

 

"Nat?" Shane asked, weakly, and all attention turned to him. It was the first time they had heard him speak, at least while he was conscious. Natasha set her bottle down, turning to face him. 

 

"Hey," She smiled, and he felt her hand rest on his own. "How do you feel?" She questioned, and  _ Oz  _ walked over to the other side of the room, out of Shane's view. Ally followed. 

 

"You should have left me," Shane frowned, and soon her expression mirrored his own. "Why?" He questioned, and she shook her head. 

 

"I didn't want you to die, Shane," She informed him, the smile forcing its way onto her face. "I've known you all my life, it doesn't matter what you've done." 

 

Shane wondered if she was serious, but the look in her eye made him understand that she was being honest. This girl didn't want him to die, for reasons he didn't understand. It's not like they were friends.

 

"You're lucky to be alive, and I'm planning on keeping you that way," She added, prompting a weak chuckle from him. 

 

"Are you going to look for Rick?" He questioned, and Natasha sighed.

 

"I want to, but I have no idea where to start. There's a lot of ground to cover," She admitted, and he could see that she felt hopeless. "For now, staying with Ally, John, and Oz is the safest thing to do. You'll fit in, trust me."

 

Shane trusts Natasha. 

 

* * *

 

"I told Oz we should have left you there," John sneered at Natasha, his voice low, like a growl in her ear as he handed her the group's bags. It had been a few days since they had found Shane, and things had not gotten much better.

 

"I told everyone you were no good, and we should have left you and your friend in that field to rot." He added, and she could feel his glare burning holes into her. 

 

"Get fucked, John," Natasha hissed at John as she packed their bags into Oz's minivan. They had to move, as the horde of freaks were starting to make their way toward the town. If they stayed, they would become cornered.

 

"Watch your tongue, bitch," John scolded her, and Natasha wondered if he realised how big of a hypocrite he was being. John slammed the trunk of the car shut once all of their supplies were inside, storming around the passenger seat. 

 

Natasha wouldn't be surprised if the freaks bypassed John, his brain was likely the size of a pea. 

 

The woman walked back into the clinic, where Ally was preparing to help Shane stand. He was wearing a shirt that was a bit too small on him, as it had once belonged to Oz. John was closer in size to Shane but had decided to be a brat. 

 

"Come here and give me a hand," Ally smiled at Natasha, who obliged. "He's been doing good. I think this time next week he'll be walking around fine." 

 

"Thanks, doc," Shane was grateful for her help, and because of her aid, he chose to act like she wasn't speaking as if he wasn't in the room. Ally offered him an apologetic smile. 

 

"What did you do?" Ally questioned, and Shane raised a brow as the two women guided him from the building. "Before this," She clarified. 

 

"Deputy Sheriff," He admitted, trying not to put all of his weight on the women. "I'm guessing you were a Doctor?" He figured it was that or a nurse. Perhaps even a paramedic. 

 

"Doctor," She confirmed, looking very proud of herself. Natasha chuckled, and Ally raised a brow. "Funny?"

 

"No!" Natasha realised she might have offended Ally. "Well, yes... I was a nurse, and it's funny because we're kind of like  _ Batman and Robin _ ." She explained, and Ally chuckled too, shaking her head. Oz opened the door for them, and they carefully helped Shane into the seat. 

 

"I say we head north," Oz commented, and Ally nodded. Both Shane and Natasha realised it was the opposite direction of the farm, which brought a frown to her lips. 

 

"If you think that's best," Natasha walked around to the other side of the car, she wasn't about to argue with Oz when he had been kind enough to take both her and Shane in, even despite John's pathetic whining.

 

"It's away from the walkers," Shane commented as the took her seat beside him, and she remembered the horde.  _ Fuck, right _ . 

 

"How are you holding up?" She asked, slowly setting her hand on his own. Shane glanced at her hand for a moment but chose to ignore the gesture. No good would come if he gave it too much thought. 

 

"Fine, feels like that time you ran me over," He smirked, and Natasha scoffed. She would nudge him if he hadn't been stabbed two days ago. 

 

"I hit you with my bike when I was 15, you big baby!" She rolled her eyes, and he laughed, despite how much it stung his chest. Things had been looking up, and yes, he wanted to look for Lori and Rick, but he knew he was not welcome anymore. She was the only person from his past willing to give him a chance; he wasn't screwing it up. Not again. 

 

Natasha had known that something would snap eventually, but she had never expected to find Shane half-dead in a field. She could see a change in him, his erratic behaviour was gone. He had been a landmine; a time bomb that had been waiting to explode. He had been like her past self, but on such a level that she could only imagine. 

 

The girl wasn't one to back down; she would regularly be in the midst of a crisis if she was left to her own devices for too long. She had only been on good terms with Rick in the past few years, before that she had been full of bitterness toward the world. Shane didn't like her much back then either, and she did not blame them in the slightest. 

 

* * *

 

Silence filled Oz's minivan, but not by choice. The silence was accompanied by its dear friend _awkwardness_ , no thanks to John.

 

Shane wondered what anyone here saw in John; he was an ass. He treated them all like trash, apart from Ally. The Doctor was his opposite, and probably the softest woman he had ever met. They were mismatched and contrasted on a level he had never seen before, but he remembered love. It does stupid things to people, and John didn't seem different to how Shane had been only days ago. 

 

That was something that troubled Shane. He didn't want to see Natasha, Ally, and Oz get hurt. Not after how they had helped him.

 

"We should stop here and look for supplies," Oz commented, and Natasha opened her mouth to agree.

 

"No," John snapped, and Natasha shut her mouth with a glare. "We have enough supplies to last. We should drive through and stop when we start getting low." 

 

"You can never have too many supplies," Natasha wanted to kick him out of the vehicle; she didn't care if they were still driving. 

 

"I don't want to put Ally in danger," John quipped, and she understood where he was coming from. 

 

"She can protect herself just fine without  _ you _ , John," Natasha folded her arms across her chest, and Shane put his hand on her knee. He hoped she wouldn't start shouting. She was kind of terrifying when she was angry. The girl glanced at Shane's hand for a moment, but her glare quickly returned to the back of John's head. 

 

"Fuck off Natasha," John didn't look at her, and it infuriated her. She bit her tongue, and Ally let out a sigh. 

 

"I'm so sick of you two fighting! When are you going to realise we can't afford this?! You'll get us killed!" The Doctor snapped at John and Natasha, and both of them remained silent as if they were two children being scolded for an insignificant argument. 

 

Silence filled the vehicle for a few moments, and Natasha glanced at Shane's hand again. It remained comfortably on her knee, and she found herself not minding the contact. She shifted her gaze from his hand to his face, and he was staring absentmindedly out of the window. 

 

Natasha knew that stranger things were going to happen. It was only a matter of time. 


	2. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John and Natasha come to blows, and she faces the consequences.

"It's not fair, Ally," John sighed, speaking quietly for a change, as he rested his chin on his wife's shoulder. The two sat facing the campfire that Shane had built before he and Natasha had retired to their tent. Ally leaned against John's chest, her eyes trained on the fire.

 

"We could take the car and keep going, just us... None of this dead weight holding us back." John continued to whisper in his wife's ear, her raven hair brushing against his lips. Sometimes, being in love with a man like John was a blessing. She knew that no harm would come to her while he lived, but other times, she feared for the safety of others. Ever since the end, he had become a brutal obscuration of his former self.

 

"Baby, that isn't fair... It's not even our van." Ally frowned, glancing down at his hands as they rested on her stomach. As much as she wanted to make John happy, they couldn't abandon the rest of the group.

 

"They'll get over it," John assured her, but they both know they wouldn't. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his wife; not after he had lost his brother. "This isn't fair; if they don't get themselves killed, they'll get _us_ killed," John added, and Ally let out an exasperated sigh.

 

"No, John... What about Oz? I understand that you don't like Nat and Shane, but you and Oz go back," Ally pointed out, briefly entertaining the idea of leaving in the middle of the night. Ally knew that Natasha and Shane were fighters who could probably make it out here alone- had Shane not been stabbed, that is.

 

"Oz... He would never agree to leave those two clowns," John kissed Ally's neck softly, and she let out a soft noise of content. John always had a way to get what he wanted from Ally, but she was stubborn. She leaned forward, reaching for her water bottle.

 

"Look, I get it... I do, baby. But Shane hasn't fully recovered, and Natasha doesn't have the experience that I do," Ally reasoned, before taking a long gulp of her water. John sighed, believing that she was too caring for such dark times.

 

"I love that you're so kind," John commented, and Ally knew where this was going. "But being nice will get you killed," He finished, just in time for shuffling to be heard. Both turned their heads and watched as Oz exited his tent, slowly walking toward them.

 

"What're you love birds chatting about?" The Irishman asked with a smile, grabbing a bottle of water.

 

"Nothing important," Ally informed him, and silence fell over the trio. The only sounds to be heard were the crackling of the fire and the rustling of the trees in the faint breeze.

 

From Shane's tent came a deep snore, which was the first of the evening. It hadn't been the first time that Shane had fallen asleep and snored so loudly, but tonight they were in the woods. He could attract walkers, and John felt tense.

 

"Oz, how would you feel about leaving?" John asked suddenly, but softly, as if not to wake the snoring beast. Hopefully, Shane didn't wake Natasha.

 

Oz quirked a brow, quizzical, and staring at John as if he were crazy. Ally sighed as if to say _I told you so_ and shook her head. For a moment or so, John questioned himself. Was this truly a stupid plan? No, _no_. It wasn't. It was for Ally.

 

"The fuck do you mean?" Oz questioned, staring at his best friend. He knew that the man had changed, but he didn't think he was seriously this far gone. John let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

 

"We should ditch the other two and keep going without them," John explained, and Oz's frustrated expression mirrored Ally's.

 

"I know you want to protect Ally, but that's too far. The guy can barely get around--" Oz was about to go on a rant about how it would be heartless to abandon them, but John cut him off.

 

"No, Oz. He's dead weight, and that bitch has almost gotten us killed twice since we met her," John _reasoned_ with Oz, but also with Ally. "It isn't about me; it's about all of us. We can go back to surviving and not starving if we leave them now."

 

Oz rose from his seat, shaking his head. The Irishman's face was a shade of red that John had only seen a handful of times, but no words came. Instead, Oz walked away from the couple, retreating into his tent. Ally huffed, shaking her head.

 

"I'm going to bed, baby." She kissed John's cheek but didn't hang around long enough for him to respond. Instead, she walked straight toward the tent they shared.

 

John was alone, and his glare was directed at the tent where Shane and Natasha rested.

 

* * *

  


A groan escaped Natasha's lips as she laid on her back, blinking away the tiredness. The sound was nothing compared to Shane's snoring, and she regretted her decision to share a tent with him. She could have been alone, or with Oz, who she assumed wasn't as loud as Shane.

 

"Shut the fuck up," Natasha grunted, and for a moment, Shane stirred. He did not wake, and another loud snore escaped him. The woman slowly sat up, glaring at Shane, before hearing voices outside of the tent. She could identify one man as Oz, his accent distinct, but the other voice was from a woman that she didn't recognise.

 

"Wake the fuck up," She sighed, gently shaking Shane until the man muttered some obscenities of his own, and opening his eyes.

 

"What do you want?" He questioned tiredly before yawning, rubbing his eyes as he did so. She could still hear the woman's voice, and it seemed like Shane was starting to notice it too. Both of them sat in silence, paying close attention to the unfamiliar voice.

 

"... You mean to tell me that there's five of you, sharing hardly any supplies?" The woman questioned Oz, who let out a sigh in response. The woman continued. "All I'm asking of you is some water, sir."

 

"I know, and I would give it to you, but my friend would kill me," Oz explained, and they both knew how John could be. He wouldn't stop for supplies, deeming it unsafe, and had become meticulous with _rationing_ each item.

 

Natasha frowned, reaching for her water bottle. If this woman was genuine, then she didn't mind sacrificing her bottle. Shane started to pick himself up as Natasha left the tent, finally setting her eyes on the stranger.

 

The woman looked helpless, her large brown eyes nearly full of tears. She had clearly seen better days, but judging from the ragged clothes and dirt on her face, these were the worst of her life.

 

"Here, miss," Natasha caught her attention, offering her own water bottle to the woman. Oz frowned, but not because he disapproved. He frowned because John was sitting at the burnt-out fire, and furiously rose to his feet as Shane stepped out of the tent.

 

"No!" John snapped, taking the water bottle from Natasha before the woman had a chance to accept it. "We can't afford to give away our supplies to strangers Nat!" John scolded her, and Natasha's eyes narrowed. She felt a venomous rage washing over her, and she didn't think twice about what she did next.

 

Natasha's fist collided with John's jaw, and in an instant, Shane was pulling her away from the man. John's face turned red, and he would have lunged toward her if Oz didn't step in front of him, pushing him backwards. The water bottle had fallen to the floor. Ally emerged from her tent, having heard the commotion; what she saw wasn't a huge surprise.

 

"What the hell?!" She asked, and both Natasha and John tried to speak over the other. Ally sighed before she snapped. "Shut up! One at a time! Nat, explain."

 

"This woman needed water, but John wouldn't let us give her any," Natasha explained, and Ally glanced around.

 

"What woman?" Ally questioned, and the four noticed that she was gone - along with the fallen bottle of water.

 

"A woman found us, Al. Natasha's telling the truth," Oz explained.

 

"She must have run away when Nat punched John," Shane added, and the look on Ally's face was incredible; her eyes went wide, and she looked at Natasha with nothing but shock. Shane regretted saying anything.

 

"You punched my husband?!" Ally raised her voice, before walking to John, noticing a red mark appearing on his jaw. It was immediately clear whose side Ally would take.

 

"John would have punched her back if it wasn't for Oz!" Shane argued, his arms still around Natasha, not trusting his friend not to punch John again. She had a temper that was unmatched, even by John sometimes.

 

"But he didn't! She still hit my husband!" Ally argued back, and Natasha sighed, pushing Shane's arm from around her.

 

"I can't fucking do this, I fucking can't! Your husband is a dick, Ally. He's going to get himself killed," Natasha sighed, and Ally glared at her.

 

"Maybe you should go," Ally spoke softly, and silence fell over the group. Natasha stared at Ally, waiting for the woman to speak, to take back what she said, but she didn't.

 

"Come on, Al, you don't mean that," Oz tried to intervene, but it was clear that Ally wasn't having any of it.

 

"No, John was right. Things have been going to shit since you two joined the group!" Ally pointed at Shane and Natasha, who stayed silent. " _This_ is going to get us all killed! Just go!" She shouted, and Natasha turned from the three, walking to her tent to collect her things. Shane sighed, following Natasha.

 

* * *

 

As they travelled down a desolate street, silence filled the space between them. Shane hadn't been talking to her much since they left the group, and Natasha knew that he was angry at her. Why wouldn't he be? He had been stabbed a week ago, and while he was getting around fine, they were away from the only doctor they knew.

 

 _And it's all my fault_ , Natasha thought to herself. John had deserved the punch, but it had cost them safety. Oz had given her a map book to help them on their journey, but she had given it to Shane, and he had chosen their route. Only he knew where they were going, and she didn't bother to ask.

 

"We need to find a car," Shane spoke suddenly, and Natasha glanced at him. He wasn't looking at her. She sighed softly.

 

"Agreed," She responded. They had been walking for days, stopping at sundown and starting again at dawn. They had brought along one of the tents, but the close quarters weren't as comfortable as they used to be. At first, it felt safe.

 

Now? It was _awkward_.

 

"Shane," She caught his attention, finally, and he peered at her. "I'm sorry that I fucked everything up," She hated apologising, she had never been fond of it before. Now, however, she knew it was important. She didn't want the only connection to her past to hate her.

 

Shane let out a semi-frustrated sigh, and he took a few moments to formulate a response. She's Rick's sister, but she wasn't like him. She was violent and cunning in comparison to her brother, and she had proved herself to be a survivor very quickly in this harsh world. She had somehow preserved a soft heart that allowed her to give him a second chance in spite of what he had done to her family. Maybe she wasn't quite as smart as Rick, but Shane pushed that thought away.

 

"It's okay, Nat," Shane finally responded, and he watched as a weak smile appeared on her face. She wanted to stay with him, and Shane knew that while he couldn't undo his past, he could create a better future for her; for them.

 

A future where he kept Natasha Grimes safe.

 

Glancing around the lonely street his gaze landed upon a car. Both front doors were wide open, and Shane drew his gun from his belt.

 

"Watch for walkers," Shane instructed, before walking toward the car. He was careful; like an animal hunting for prey. Natasha nodded, pulling her gun from its holster and scanning the area for the dead.

 

The street was clear, and Natasha slowly followed Shane. He peered into the car and found it to be clear of walkers, and seemingly of any other supplies. He opened one of the back passenger doors, and there were very few things scattered on the seats. The sound of the trunk opening caught his attention, and he glanced up to see Natasha searching the car. He moved toward the driver's side door, hoping that the keys were still in the vehicle.

 

"Oh God," Natasha's voice reached his ears, and he glanced back, looking at her as she stood behind the car. "We've hit the fucking jackpot!" She announced, gleeful, and the grin on her face was infectious.

 

"What?" He questioned, and Natasha held up a few bottles of water. The look on her face told him that there was more where they came from.

 

"It's fully stocked," She commented, standing back and closing the door with a few bottles under one arm. Shane turned his attention back to searching for the keys. Natasha took a seat next to him, dropping the bottles on her lap and putting her backpack in the footwell.

 

Shane pulled down the visor, and the keys fell into his lap. Natasha snorted at the look on his face, and he aimed a playful glare at her.

 

"Something funny, Nut?" He teased, and she raised a brow at the old nickname, a smirk set on her lips.

 

"Don't think I won't beat your ass," She warned him, the threat only in jest. The engine roared to life as Shane chuckled, before pulling into the road.


	3. A New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Natasha come across a new friend.

Soft rays of light streamed in through the small window of the bedroom, and the snores of the man next to her were the only noises that reached her ears. Natasha had grown used to the sound, as well as the heat that accompanied sleeping with Shane.   
  
It was for warmth; no more, no less.    
  
Winter had hit them fast, leaving little time to find the necessary supplies as well as a place to stay. They had no suitable clothes and needed to ration the food they had, but on the plus side, the cottage they had broken into had plenty of blankets and running water.    
  
Shane's muscular arm was coiled around her torso, holding her close to him as her back pressed against his chest. His touch was soothing, and leaving the bed every morning was a slow process.    
  
A particularly loud snore escaped Shane's mouth, and she glanced back judgingly as he jolted suddenly, having woken himself up. He seemed disoriented but slowly came to, his tired gaze resting on her face.    
  
"What?" He questioned, and she snickered before gently lifting his arm from around her, slowly crawling out from beneath the covers. She picked up her bottle of water as she shuffled across the room, opening the curtains a crack to check on the car.   
  
Shane took a moment to watch her, before rolling onto his back to reach for his water bottle. He glanced at his watch and frowned as he saw the time. 9:00 AM. Their days were long and dull while they remained trapped in a little house. He knew it was safer than being out in the cold with the dead.    
  
His fingers gently touched his scar, and he didn't feel much at the contact. It had healed over nicely, just in time for the months where they would do very little in the way of work. /Perfect/.    
  
"Shane?" Natasha caught his attention as she got back into bed, holding a box of dry cereal in hand. She set it between them, and Shane took a handful.    
  
"What's up?" He asked before shoving the handful of cereal into his mouth. Natasha took a moment to answer him, humming very quietly as she watched him eat. He needed to shave.   
  
"I was thinking last night, what's the plan after the snow clears up?" She questioned. Usually, Natasha let Shane plan everything. They were here now because of his planning, and she didn't often ask about his ideas. She tucked into the cereal too, as Shane swallowed and thought about how to word his answer.    
  
"I was thinking about Washington DC," He confessed, they were halfway there already. Shane had no particular reasoning for Washington DC. He had been there before, and it was potentially far away from Rick Grimes. Natasha was safe with him, more so than she would be with Rick; brother or not.   
  
That was just Shane's humble opinion.   
  
Natasha hadn't tried to sway him, and it seemed like she knew the dangers of trying to track down the old group. Shane knew she had different reasons for believing so, and he wasn't exactly expecting her to side with him entirely.    
  
"Not a bad idea," She admitted, and Shane smirked at her.    
  
"Was that a compliment?" He teased, and Natasha rolled her eyes, swatting his arm as she swallowed her mouthful of cereal. Shane chuckled as she glared playfully.    
  
"Don't read too much into it, asshole," She spoke, sass laced in her voice, but a grin that she was unable to hide from Shane crept onto her lips.   
  
The two had grown closer in the past few weeks, though, that was only natural. Especially as they so much time close together, surviving together; they had a bond that neither had experienced before. At least, Natasha thought so.   
  
"I ain't the only asshole here," Shane grinned, grabbing the box before she could take more cereal, before rising from the bed and walking out of the bedroom. Natasha scoffed as he reached the doorway, looking back at her and shaking the box as if she was a cat, then walking into the lounge area.   
  
He unquestionably expected her to follow, and she wanted to stay in bed. However, she was hungry, and she followed him with a playful glare.    
  


* * *

  
  
"What are we supposed to do if the car doesn't start?" Natasha questioned, watching Shane from the open kitchen window. It was still cold, but the snow had cleared now. Shane was wrapped up warmly, but mostly in blankets. Natasha was unwilling to go outside until they could start the car and continue on their journey.   
  
"We walk until we get another car," Shane responded, and she could hear the frustration in his voice as he messed with the car. "Carry as much as we can, maybe find another place..." Shane continued but trailed off as he prioritised the car over the conversation. Natasha sipped her water, watching out for the dead as he worked on the car.   
  
Minutes passed, turning into an hour and a half when Shane finally let out a grunt and slammed the hood of the car down. From the look of defeat written on his face, Natasha knew they had to walk. She hopped off the counter, locking the window as Shane brought the few tools he had found back indoors. He bolted the door behind him, after dumping the items on the tattered couch.    
  
"We need to leave tomorrow," Shane announced, and Natasha offered him a box of old crackers. They were disgusting but better than nothing. Shane accepted them, making a face as he took a bite. "These taste like ass," He commented, and Natasha snickered.   
  
"Do I need to ask?" She teased, and he threw half a cracker in her direction. She caught it, her smirk turning into a grimace as the soft cracker crumbled in her hand. "Dick," She glared at him playfully, brushing the crumbs into the sink.    
  
"That a request?" Shane asked, something playful about his gaze suddenly. Natasha cocked a brow, folding her arms over her chest. He seemed confident in himself as if he was expecting this to go further. He did, truth be told.   
  
"That an offer?" She countered, and Shane set the box of crackers on the counter as he approached her. He was close now, closer than usual. It wasn't unusual for them to be so close, and Shane could feel Natasha's breath on his skin, the warmth sending chills across the rest of his body.   
  
"Say it is, what--" Shane started, but a soft yelp came from her lips as a tapping came from the window behind her, and Shane was quick to pull her body against his protectively, moving her far away from the window and grabbing his gun from the counter-top. The weapon was aimed steadily at the window, and Natasha glanced outward.    
  
It was a man, but one that lived. His knock was rhythmic, but also weak. The man was looking in at them from behind the glass, and Shane could see his features semi-clearly. He had a long, gruff beard, and his hood obscured the rest of his face. The tall figure backed up, raising his hands in surrender. Natasha felt herself pull her firearm from her holster, readying herself to take the man down if he tried anything (and if Shane didn't beat her to it).    
  
Instead of trying anything stupid; the man pulled down his hood. He was older than Natasha had initially assumed, and she started to feel bad for him. His clothes hung from him, and Natasha felt the kind-hearted half of her pushing it's way to the surface. Shane, on the other hand, was unsure of the man. He had picked up on how thin the man is but a stranger after so long alone made him anxious.    
  
"Can you open the window?" The man asked, his voice hoarse, barely audible due to the window being closed. Natasha glanced up at Shane, who refused to take his eyes off of the man. He didn't answer, and Natasha stepped away from his side, gun visibly in hand as she moved towards the window. She opened it an inch, and the man slowly stepped forward.    
  
"My name is--" The man started to introduce himself, his voice sounding worse with every syllable. Shane stepped closer to the window, gun still pointed at the man. Natasha knew Shane would kill him, and while she wouldn't mourn, she wanted to hear what he had to say first.    
  
"I don't care." Shane interrupted the man, whose expression seemed to read /fair enough/. "What do you want?" Shane questioned, and the man slowly lowered his arms.   
  
"Water. Food." The man was straight to the point. "Maybe a place to stay for the night, if you have the room?" He added, and Shane was sceptical. The man looked as if he wouldn't survive another week out, but Shane remembered that he wouldn't be here without the kindness of strangers.    
  
"Shane," Natasha's voice caught his attention, and for a moment, he glanced at her. His gaze was immediately back on the man, who hadn't moved. "Look at him, he needs help," She continued, lowering her voice a bit. "If he tries anything, we can shoot him."   
  
Shane nodded, humming in agreement. He didn't want to let the man in, in case he was a threat to Natasha's safety. She had a point; if he did something stupid, he would be dead in a second.    
  
"I'm alone if that means anything to you," The man broke the silence, still staring in at them hopelessly. "Winter took my last group. I'll leave whenever you want me to," He added, and Shane sighed.   
  
"Stay here," He spoke to Natasha, who nodded and kept her eyes on him as Shane walked to the door. She could see how weary the man became as Shane walked towards him, gun in hand, and searched the man's body for weapons. Shane took a gun from him, before instructing the thinner man to walk inside. He was close behind, and Natasha felt proud that Shane had agreed to help him.    
  
"Sit there," Shane ordered the man, closing the door behind them before gesturing to the dining table. The man gladly sat down at the old dining table, and Natasha disappeared into the bedroom to get him something to eat. She looked for things that she and Shane weren't fond of and ended up bringing the man a bottle of water with a few cereal bars.    
  
"Thank you, ma'am," The man gave her a weak smile, before hastily drinking the water. Natasha looked to Shane, who didn't take his eyes off of the man. The man glanced up at them both, wiping away drops of water from his chin, and setting the bottle down on the table.    
  
Natasha wondered what he looked like without the long beard and hair. It had been a long, long winter, and even Shane had grown a long beard. For the most part, his hair was long too, but he had a few patches missing. Natasha was surprised that her own now-long hair didn't fall out from stress, but she would settle for grease over being bald.    
  
"I never introduced myself," The man stated, bringing Natasha out of her trance. The man decided that his lack of manners could be excused this time. "I'm Negan," He continued, starting to unwrap a cereal bar.    
  
"I'm Natasha," She introduced herself, giving Negan a small smile. "My partner here is Shane," She added when Shane didn't introduce himself. Shane briefly glanced at her when she called him her partner, but he wasn't about to complain.    
  
"Thank you both," Negan was grateful for their kindness, even if it seemed like a difficult decision for Shane to make. It had been Natasha's decision, but either way, Negan was happy to have temporary shelter from the world.    
  
"It's nothing," Shane grumbled, leaning against a wall and observing the man. He had so many questions for Negan. As Natasha settled down on a chair, he decided to begin the inquest.    
  
"You ever kill anyone, Negan?" He asked, and Negan looked slightly surprised at the question. It was out of the blue, but Negan immediately realised why Shane asked it. He wanted to know if he was dangerous, and if letting him was a good decision.    
  
Smart.   
  
"Yeah," Negan leaned back, looking up at him as he unwrapped a cereal bar. "They were bit, asked for it." Negan kept his explanation short,  which was enough for Natasha. Shane kept his gaze trained on Negan, who had no reason to lie to them. This was a dangerous world and killing was necessary.    
  
"What were you before?" Shane pressed, and Natasha glanced at him briefly. They hadn't trusted anyone as part of the group since John, Ally, and Oz. That last encounter didn't pan out very well, and before that, Shane hadn't left the first group on great terms.   
  
Maybe they were cursed?   
  
"A teacher," Negan brought Natasha from her thoughts, and she didn't think that Negan seemed like the type. Of course, she doubted that she looked like a nurse or that Shane looked like a cop. The world changed them.    
  
One thing that hadn't changed about Natasha was her need to help people. That was why she became a nurse, and hopefully why Shane still called himself a cop.    
  
"Well, Negan," Natasha rested her arms on the table, giving the man a weak smile. "Where are you heading?" She questioned, and Negan sipped his water.   
  
"Virginia," Negan answered. "Why?"   
  
"We're going to Washington DC, and if you can pull your weight you can join us," Shane answered, practically reading Natasha's mind. She directed her smile at Shane, who rubbed her shoulder.   
  
"Tonight, however, you can sleep in the spare bedroom. There's plenty of blankets to go around," Natasha added, and it warmed her to see the smile on Negan's face.   
  
However, Shane didn't miss the brief flash of doubt in his eyes. The former Sheriff's deputy would need to keep an eye on the newcomer for Natasha's safety. She was more trusting than Shane, and he didn't want her to regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. So, I'm not really in the fandom anymore. I don't have much motivation for this story, which makes me sad because I still remember my vision for it quite clearly. I really hope one day that I can update it more and finish it, but that probably won't be any time soon.


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